My Dearest, Darlingest Husband
by InnocentTraitor22
Summary: Marsena Hated Peter Pettigrew. She loathed him, despised him, abhorred, detested, and derided him with every single fiber of his being! In her opinion, which she held in much esteem, the man was the most insufferable, grievous and egregious creature to have ever crawled out from under a rock and stood up on two legs. This all being e was married to him. Hard T, maybe M.


**Okay, So I got this Idea watching the old 1960s film Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and seeing the scenes between The Baron and his Wife only this is a bit darker. Hope you Enjoy, I own nothing except for Marsena (Funfact, Marsena means "Bitterness of a Briar"). (PS: It should be know that I really really really hate Wormtail)**

Marsena Hated Peter Pettigrew.

She didn't _just_ hate him, she loathed him, despised him, abhorred, detested, and derided him with every single fiber of his being! In her opinion, which she held in much esteem, the man was the most insufferable, grievous and egregious creature to have ever crawled out from under a rock and stood up on two legs.

This all being said….

She was married to him.

Quite recently in fact, the copper haired temptress with almond brown eyes had been joined in a union of convenience with the buggy, watery eyed worm ten miserable months ago for one reason and one reason only.

Marsena and Peter had what people in the States would call a "green-card Marriage". Only Peter didn't know it, in his mind the Andorran Beauty had married him for Love and Companionship.

The fool.

Andorra was a small country land locked between France and Spain and was the former home to Marsena Sonejee, the third child of a poor Andorran factory worker and a Witch who had a taste for the finer things in life. She met Peter Pettigrew in Albania and While Peter saw a Tall, slim goddess out of his league, Marsena saw Galleons by the bag.

Peter had told her he was a wealthy international traveler in the hopes of getting her attention and boy did it work. Imagine her surprised after their small, informal wedding in finding out he was lower- middleclass at _best._ And so she lived with him for ten months, living a lie until her papers came through and she was a legal citizen on the United Kingdoms. Turns out Peter was a Deatheater and was in hiding after having faked his death, but that didn't bother her so much.

Along with being petty, vain, and underhanded, Marsena was also slightly amoral.

Now she sat in the small dimly lit bedroom in front of an iron vanity covered with chipped white paint, she stared into the mirror with a discontented sigh and fondled the long double string of white fake pearls on her palm. Letting the smooth white beads glide between her fingers and out of her palm she liked to pretend they were real sometimes, just to give her a small bit of comfort. She had on a thin short, silky night gown and a semi-sheer rose pink peignoir with long draping sleeves, it made her feel glamorous and beautiful.

Peter had been gone for hours now at a meets, thank God for small blessings. She frowned and wished she had never met the man, maybe if she had held out for a bit longer in that forest lodge, waited at that bar for just one more hour she could have hooked a real Millionaire.

But two nights ago she had decided to make the best of it. She had formally came to conclusion that it was time to take life into her own hands. Divorce? No, divorce costs money, money she didn't have. Marsena had a much better idea.

She was going to kill him.

"Marcy Darling." His nasally voice called, announcing his arrival home at the ungodly hour of three a.m. "Sorry I'm so late Love, got held up." He pulled off his jacket and Marsena grinned unseen in the kitchen. "How did it go dear?" she called, pulled a small paper envelope from her brassier and set in on the counter and poured two glasses of red wine. Looking over her shoulder she dumped the contents of the package into the left glass and swished the liquid around to mix it in.

"Fine, Nothing out of the ordinary." He entered the kitchen to find his lovely wife holding two glasses of wine with a welcoming smile. That was odd. Peter had found that after their marriage Marsena had changed from a sweet, bubbly brunette with the Catalan accent to a slightly dour woman who seemed to hold him in mild contempt. Or maybe that was just his imagination.

"Anything interesting happen around here?" he asked courteously and she grinned a smile that in the right light could be seem as sinister. "Peter Darling…" she sat on a wooden chair at the kitchen table and crossed her legs lady like. "I have a surprise for you."

She set the glass into his hand, the silver one. That bloody silver hand that gave her to creeps something terrible, "I went to the doctor today." She lied skillfully.

"Are you sick?"

She laughed lightheartedly, Airy and sweetly in a way that contrasted with her dark intentions. "No dear, just the opposite," she set her glass down. "Peter, I'm pregnant" Peter nearly dropped his wine glass and Marsena's heart nearly stopped until he caught it before it spilt. "What?" Peter' heart lit up, his wife was pregnant. All fear of her leaving him left his head.

"Isn't it wonderful?" she said gleefully. "Come" she held up her glass in a toast. "To us." Peter raised his glass "to us" he repeated and Marsena watched with bated breath as he lifted the rim of the poisoned wine to his lips. Heart pounding in her ears she waited for him to swallow and topple over like a sack of potatoes.

However, fate did not shine down on her methods as the doorbell rang and Peter, easily Scared as he was, jumped about a foot in the air and sent the wine splattering down his shirt and on the floor. "Oh Dear" Peter quickly tried to wipe it up. "I'm sorry dear I ruined your toast."

The toast was the furthest thing from her mind as Marsena stared as the front door. Whoever it was had better have a _damn good reason_ to interrupt now!

"It's alright Love, I'll clean it up. You go change." She said calmly, plastering that smile back on her face as she stood up slowly and with jerky movements headed for the doorway, intent to tear whoever it was a new one. The doorbell kept going off and she yanked the door open in a barely concealed rage. " _What?_ " she hissed without meaning to, taking the intruder aback a bit.

"Am I interrupting something?" the strange woman asked, bushed a chuck of black curls from her wide, wild eyes. Marsena Swallowed and straightened up, "No, can I help you with something?" she asked politely and the Woman tried to look around her, "Is Peter Pettigrew here?"

Marsena nodded and opened the door, "yes. Uh, won't you come in?" she offered and the strange woman entered curiously, looking around the shoddy home. "One moment please." She said softly and made her way to the hall way. " _Peter!"_ she yelled harshly, her signature way of getting him to come running like a dog.

"Yes dear" The beetle scrambled out into the hall with his fresh shirt half buttoned properly. "Someone here for you." She told him sourly and crossed her arms.

The woman watched them with interest, all this time she wondered who in their right mind would marry Peter Pettigrew and figured it would be some sort of troll or hag, not a lovely twenty something woman. "I need to talk to you." She told him plainly and eyed his wife. "Oh uh…" Peter looked at Marsena nervously, "Marcy will you give us a moment please,"

She shrugged and made the kitchen, now too busy trying to figure out a new game plan to give a damn about what they had to say. She could use the killing curse but it could be traced back to her wand, the poison was gone now. She paced the stain tile and fumed until a flash of steel caught her eye. The large kitchen knife she used to chopping the meat for that night's meal. Perfect.

She grabbed the long blade and sharpened it with the whetstone, running the tool up the edge of the glimmering steel slowly until it was sharp enough she could press the pad of her thumb on it and draw blood.

Wonderful.

She waited for the strange woman to leave before exiting the kitchen, she dimmed the lights so the harsh glare wouldn't catch the blade and stared at her unwanted husband. "Peter" she drew out his name playfully, holding the weapon behind her back as she leaned on the wooden door frame. "it's late Peter. Come to bed." She commanded and turned for the hall way, flipping off the light and shifting the knife from his gaze as she went.

Peter was stunned, never before had she need to…well….nice. Or welcoming, or forward with him. Hell she didn't seem to really like him that much. Maybe it was pregnancy hormones.

Either way he wasn't complaining as he followed her to the bedroom, she had lit candles around the room and was sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for him. He couldn't see her that well in the dim light, and he couldn't see her predatory smile.

This time she would not fail. She wouldn't sleep with him, no frankly she was surprised that he believed her at all seeing as she hadn't been with in him four months. That's not so say she hadn't gone to bed with a man in the past ten months either, marriage didn't stop her wild streak by a longshot.

Affairs had become a nice little perk for her actually, more exciting than a one night stand without the commitment of a relationship. She crooked one finger and beckoned him to her, tracing her fingers along his head and easily cast a charm without the use of any magic. As soon as he was in the proper place she raised her knife and prepared to plunge its steel blade into his back.

Only Peter got a little too eager and pushed her on her back, causing the weapon to fall from her grip and land with a soft thud on the carpet. _Shit_ she thought and pushed him off slightly. "Peter please." She scolded him. "Don't spoil it."

Peter swallowed sheepishly as she straightened up and fluffed her copper locks. She looked around casually, giving off a teasing air even though she was just trying to find something else to off him with. She spotted the flicker of candle light on the walls and huffed. It was a bit _extreme._ But it would have to do.

"Peter" she cooed and crawled back on the bed. "Come'er" she directed and he obeyed like the willing slave he was. She felt for her wand, thinking of tying him to the bed but if there was an investigation that would surely give her away, besides it would seem she had left her wand in her purse downstairs anyway.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and eyed him. "Do you love me Peter?" she asked and Peter nodded eagerly, "of course." He squeaked. "Would you do anything for me?" She got on her knees and pulled him on the bed. "Yes!" He replied as she pushed him on the mattress and straddled him. "Would you die for me?!" she cried and discretely reached for the candle by the bed.

"Yes!" Peter couldn't believe how lucky he was right at that very moment. "Promise?" Marsena said coldly and set the duvet aflame. Peter didn't notice at first until the flames nipped at his leg. By the time he noticed that it was a large blaze and she was off the bed and out the door, candle still in hand. She locked the bedroom door to ensure he didn't escape. She then lit up the cheap drapes, the carpet, and the wood furniture.

Throwing the candle away she rushed out of living room into the Kitchen and picked up the wine bottle. She poured it all around the kitchen and struck a match and dropped it, the alcohol was ablaze in an instant.

The house began to fill with Smoke and she could Hear Peter's howls for help down the hall and thought it was time to get the Hell out of Dodge. Grabbing her Purse and pulling her wand from it she lit a few more flames before exiting through the back door.

The House was fairly secluded as well as run down as per the agreement of his isolation. So unless someone could see the smoke in the middle of the night, she was safe.

Her husband's cries of help seemed to have stopped and she figured he's died from smoke inhalation.

She looked to her left then to her right, flipping her hair as she did. She lifted her hands helplessly and frowned. "Help!" she said softly, "Oh help, please help me." She said in the least concerned of voices, just so she wouldn't have to lie in court when asked if she called for help.

Smiling that same, wolf like grin she get off for the road. Strolling as if on a walk in the park instead of walking away from a burning building.

However something made her stop cold in her tracks.

"Darling!"

She froze closed her eyes and clenched her fists. Peter Pettigrew was a miserable, wretched little cockroach, and just like a Cockroach he had proven himself to be seemingly _Unkillable_

"Thank God You're alright." The little man, covered in soot and ash scrambled down the road after her. She growled and whipped out her wand and aimed at him. " _That's IT!"_ she howled with rage. "I've HAD IT!"

She Laughed at his frightened and confused face, "I _tried_ to give you a little dignity in death, I _tried_ to make it easy on you but NO!" she glared at him and Peter trembled, "what are you saying Marcy?"

" _Stop Calling Me That!_ I'm saying I want you _dead_ and I want your _money_ " she barked, "you blithering idiot!" She raised her Wand with a mad grin on her face.

"Avada Kadavra!"

/

The next Morning a muggle fire patrol arrived at the charred remained of a house been in the woods. A formal investigation was conducted but no one was listed to have lived in the house in ten years. A body was found at the scene with not apparent cause of death, its face fixed in a permanent look of fear…


End file.
